Two Brothers
by fey of the forest
Summary: Set post s3. When the duty of an execution falls on one of Camelot's guards, he can scarcely believe it. Butwhen he finds out who the criminal is, he begins to question whether his duty is to Camelot or to his family
1. Prologue

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**This is set post series 3 of merlin**

**Disclaimer: Merlin belongs to the BBC. I do not own any of the characters apart from my OCs.**

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**Fey of the Forest**

He stands waiting nervously. He does not usually feel like this, but today he has a good reason to. He has been ordered to be the executioner of a traitor. It is a task he has never had to do before, and he knows that this will be a different experience of death than those he has encountered before. As a guard of Camelot he has killed before, but only those that have tried to break into the castle. Those deaths had been in the heat of battle. This one was on a rather peaceful day in front of many common people, people he knew. This time he was executing someone who he had time to think about, and what was worse was that he was having to execute this criminal in front of his sister.

He wipes his hands on his breeches and takes the hood from the hook by the entrance. Every guard in Camelot had this duty at some point during their life, and unfortunately it had fallen to him on the day that his sister was working in the castle, He knew that she would not forgive him for this, and he dreaded seeing her that evening, but to not do this would mean punishment, and with Uther's laws being harsh he would rather have his sister's disapproval than an empty place at home where he should have been. Putting the hood on, he takes the axe and goes to the platform in the middle of the courtyard.

The crowd jeers at him, but they are quiet when they see guards appear on the balcony. The execution will not be far off. The executioner tries to stop his hands from shaking and lets his eyes wander around the crowd. He knows he is looking for his sister, and when he cannot see her he wonders if she has managed to get out of watching this. He hopes that she has. He already knew that his mother disapproved, but he could live with that. His sister on the other hand was a different matter entirely. She would never forgive him. She hated the fact that he had already killed other men, even though they had been enemies of Camelot. She believed that the sword was not always the best way to solve an argument, and she also thought that Uther Pendragon's laws were too harsh. To some extent he did agree with her, but he had taken on the job in order to bring in money and if they wished to live then he had to do this. Looking around the windows of the castle he spots one or two servants stood cleaning the glass, obviously finding an excuse to watch. He then sees a familiar face and sighs. She was going to be watching and as he caught her gaze he could see the disappointment in her eyes. She seemed to plead with him to not do this, and he had a feeling that she knew something that he didn't. He was soon to find out that his feeling was real.

The drums began to beat as the doors opened and the prisoner was brought out. The King, who was still recovering from his experience with Morgana taking the throne, appeared on the balcony. It was clear to all that things were taking their toll on him, and there were rumours about how fit he was to be their ruler. Various factions were setting up, with many supporting Arthur as becoming king, though they differed over the methods. Some wanted Arthur to usurp the throne whilst others wanted it to be negotiated. However, all of these groups were united in the thought that Uther was now an unfit monarch.

The executioner listens to the king as he talks of the evils of magic and how it is banned in the kingdom. He listens to how the king's voice shakes, and saw how the Crowned Prince appears to be physically supporting his father. He takes note of how pale and drawn Uther looks, before turning to look at the prisoner as they are brought onto the platform. The guard had decided he would not look at the criminal until the last moment, for then he would not have the time to take in the look of fear on their face or any other emotion. If he did not meet their eyes then they would not haunt him for the rest of his life. Of course, the look of the criminal's face would stay with him for the rest of his life, regardless of the amount of time he looked. He just had no wish for the criminal to look at him for he did not know what they would see in his own eyes, nor did he wish to see their hatred for him.

His two colleagues bring the criminal onto the platform and the executioner sees the look of guilt and regret in their eyes. He is curious for a moment, for they were not usually like this at an execution. But then he looks down at the prisoner, and all the noise dies away. The king is still speaking but he can not hear him. He can no longer see the crowd or the guards. He no longer takes note of anything else in the courtyard. All he can see is the man in between his two colleagues, and he knows that he can not do this.

The man is thin, pale and drawn. It is clear that he has been mistreated and been left in the dungeons for quite some time. His skin is bruised and he looks exhausted. There are large dark rings around his eyes and the man is a shadow of his former self. He is barely recognisable. But the executioner knows him. He knows him far too well, and he knows that regardless of the consequences he can not go through with this. He did not care that it contravened with Camelot's laws. Uther could do with him as he wished, for he could not follow this order through. How could he kill someone he knew and loved?

For the prisoner, the criminal he was being made to execute, was his own younger brother...


	2. Chapter 1

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**Fey of the Forest**

The young man sighed. He hated this part of the job with all his being, but it was an inevitability. Every guard had to do this at some point, and this particular task had become more frequent since Arthur had been crowned Prince. If someone else could have done this today then he would have been more than grateful, but as no one liked doing this he was stuck with it. Besides that, King Uther himself had charged him with the duty, which meant that there would be no swapping with any of his colleagues. So he had set off from the castle with a heavy heart, knowing exactly which families he had to visit and impart bad news to. Walking through the streets of Camelot the young squire clutched his dirty tattered cloak tight around him and wished that he was heading towards a warm bed rather than these cottages.

He had only just returned from the raid when he had been sent out on this duty. The remaining members of the party had sought an audience with the King and had explained what had happened before he had been singled out to tell the families. His colleagues had gone to their homes, probably to a warm bath, cooked food and a comfy bed, whereas he had to go back into the cold in his dirt covered clothes looking rather worse for the wear. But the sooner this was done the better.

Seeing the sky filled with dark grey rainclouds threatening to burst at any moment, the exhausted man picked up his pace, hoping to avoid the storm that was brewing. He was already cold, tired, dirty and hungry and he didn't want to add wet to the list. Hurrying down the street he needed he paused at the door of the cottage and took a deep breath. He did not want to have to do this, but it was his duty. He also owed it to his fallen comrades. Knocking on the door, he stood solemnly and waited for the owner to let him in. He really did not want to be doing this.

"My husband?" asked a rather rotund woman as she opened the door. Her face had fallen the moment she recognised the young man standing at her doorway.

"I am so sorry. May I come in?"

He had been greeted with a number of reactions that day. All of them had been different, but each and every single one had torn at his heart, so much so that it was nearly in shreds. He had been met with silence, disbelief, sadness, anger, hatred, and one or two people had took one look at him and just shut the door before breaking down into tears. Some of them had blamed him, others had blamed the King, whereas some had simply accepted their husband's death. After all, it was always going to be an uncertainty as to whether they would return from a job alive or not. He did not envy the mother's task of telling children why their father's would not be coming home. When he had told the bad news he had always made sure that the young children were not around, for that had made it less difficult to break the news without breaking down himself. But now, as he walked back towards the castle and the first drops of rain began to fall, he walked towards the last house. His stomach had long since stopped rumbling, but he was exhausted and knew that this last one would not be easy. This was the one he had been dreading the most.

"Oliver? Is that you?"

"Branwen, is your mother home?" He was ushered inside by the young girl. He had been dreading this house for he knew the family well. It was their father that had trained him up and had looked after him when he needed someone to talk to. He had become a firm friend with the three children, though they were now young adults, and their mother had always doted on him whenever he visited. All that made this task a lot harder. Sighing as he was made to sit down by the fire, Branwen flashed him a quick smile before going to look for her mother.

Branwen had recently turned sixteen and was becoming a lovely young woman. She had her mother's long brown hair and her father's green eyes, and was fairly pretty. She was not tall, but she took the jokes about her height with a pinch of salt. She was like most young women who lived at home, helping her mother keep the house and looking after her two brothers. The young man wondered just where they were but was silently hoping that they were out for he did not want to have to break the news to them as well as to their mother. He knew the family far too well that seeing one look of grief would break his heart, let alone all four.

Hearing footsteps, he stood up and as Elayne walked in he saw her face fall.

"Drystan?"

"I am so sorry." He meant every word. The woman who had acted as his second mother practically crumpled onto a stool, but she did not cry. "I am afraid that I am the bearer of bad news." She said nothing, just looked at him with her brown eyes. "I'm sorry to have to tell you that he's dead."

"How?" Just one word and yet it was like a dagger to his heart. The memories were too fresh in his mind and he really did not wish to relive the previous day's experience.

"A raid on one of the outlying villages. A group of bandits attacked us. We fought them off but we suffered heavy losses. Your husband fought valiantly but I am afraid he was wounded. I tried to help him but as I did so we became a target for a group of the villains. I fought them off the best I could, but one of them went to kill me whilst my back was turned. Drystan... He... Well, he saved my life." He paused, closing his eyes as the memory of holding the dying man in his arms flashed through his mind. One small tear fell from his eyes and he sighed heavily. "I would rather he be home then me telling you this. I am so sorry Elayne. If there had been any other way..."

"His body?"

"The castle. The funeral is tomorrow."

"He needs to be brought home, just this one last time." She choked. "We need... Need to say... Goodbye." She sobbed then, and Oliver found himself wishing that his mentor was here, not him. He had seen so many happy times within this house that to see sadness was killing him.

"Of course. And if there is anything I can do, anything at all..."

"We will ask." Branwen said from the doorway. Her eyes were blurred with tears and it was obvious that she was struggling to hold back her grief, but she remained strong as she wished him a good day. The door shutting behind him, Oliver paused for a moment as he watched the rain pour as if an endless downpour of tears from heaven, and heard the girl comfort her mother before he returned to the castle.

They had been outside when their friend had come to break the bad news. It was only when the rain had become too heavy that they had gone inside to find the two women in each other's arms. The eldest had known almost instantly what was wrong, whereas the youngest needed to be told. Within a few moments they were all comforting each other, all united in mourning the loss of a father and a husband. The eldest shed no tears, but knew instantly what he had to do. With his father gone he was now head of the family, and every responsibility his father had had now fell to him. He would turn to these later, but now he had to stay strong for his family.

"His funeral?"

"Tomorrow. With his fallen comrades." Branwen told them, drying her eyes. "But he needs to be prepared."

"Cas and I shall go fetch him home. As for flowers..." the youngest brother, Aleyn, elected.

"I shall go. Mother?"

"I shall sort things out here. Go." The three siblings went their separate ways.

The two brothers, aged seventeen and nineteen, were very similar and yet very different. The eldest took on much of his father's appearance and traits, whereas the youngest took after his mother. Casimir had his father's blonde hair, height and stature, the perfect figure of a man. Aleyn on the other hand had his mother's hair and eyes, and was often teased for being a mother's boy. However, the two of them both knew that they had to stop messing about and now take their father's place. Walking up to the castle with the rain still pouring down, they explained what they were here to do and within the space of half an hour their father was home for one last time.

They washed the dirt and blood from him first, and then dressed him in his finest clothes. His second best cloak was wrapped around his shoulders and joined it with a golden dragon brooch. They then placed his second best sword in his hands and a shield over the top of his chest. He looked every bit the fine soldier, and if it was not for the nasty jagged wound that scarred his neck you could almost believe that he was merely resting, not dead. Elayne sat with him, stroking a few hairs from his forehead and her children knew better than to interrupt. They knew that they would have to wrap him in a linen shroud before the burial, but they could not bear to do that just yet. Not until they had said goodbye properly first. Moving into one of the other rooms, they discussed what they would do next, and it was decided that after the funeral they would apply to the relevant people.

They said their goodbyes that morning. Casimir remained strong but quiet, an unusual temperament on him for he was usually quite cheery. Aleyn struggled to say farewell, tears in his eyes as he looked at his father for one last time before he would be put in the ground. Branwen tried desperately to stop her tears, but every time she stopped her mother would set her off again. She placed the flowers she had picked in her father's hand and kissed him on the forehead before joining her brothers. Her mother kissed him one final time before they wrapped him in the linen shroud, and then Drystan's colleagues came to bear him to the burial ground. In one solemn procession they followed their father through the streets to where the Crown Prince was stood with the Knights and the guards who were off duty.

The rain was still falling as they placed the fallen men in their graves, but the funeral was not rushed. A few words were said about every man that had given their lives in the raid and then their families were allowed to say goodbye. Once that had been done the graves were filled in and one by one the guards wandered away. The Prince stayed only a little longer than those who were first to go, but even he left before most of the families. However, as he left, Casimir had a few quiet words with him and it was not until they returned to their cottage that evening that he told them the news.

Drystan's family stayed by his grave for all of the afternoon and much of the evening. They did not worry about getting soaked by the endless downpour, nor about the chill wind. They just did not want to leave him on his own. The two brothers knew that they had to leave at some point though, as did Branwen. Elayne let them return home but she stayed with her husband, wishing that he was alive and with her at home, not lying in the cold ground. And so that was where she could be found as night fell with a full moon shining in the sky.

"Elayne, you cannot stay out here all night." came a voice. Oliver had visited her house to find that she was still outside. The rain was still falling and she was completely soaked, whilst her children were worrying about her. "They're worried about you."

"I belong here, with my husband."

"You'll get ill."

"I don't care. It's because of you that he's dead!" He hesitated, but knew that he had to keep his promise to look after her. He at least owed Drystan that.

"I know." He murmured. "And for that I am truly sorry."

"Sorry won't bring him back." She got up and started attacking him. He did not do anything to stop her, knowing that this was her grief and that she was right to be angry with him. Every hit was a painful reminder that it was him who should be lying in the ground and not his mentor. But there was nothing he could do to change that. He did not know where her energy came from, but he knew that she would soon cease her assault. Within a few minutes she had stopped, and he simply held her in his arms as she cried.

"I know. I know." And so they stayed there, the rain falling down as the two figures mourned the loss of a great man, one who would be sorely missed...


	3. Chapter 2

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**Fey of the Forest**

He strode through the almost completely deserted streets of Camelot with the only sound being that of birdsong, contrasting to the usual noise that filled the town. The Sun was just about rising, having won its battle with the night sky, and was casting the first few rays of light onto the soaked town. The sky still contained dark grey clouds that threatened more rain but it seemed that they would be in for a dry day. The puddles that had formed all over the town from yesterday's downpour had not dissipated and so threatened to turn the streets into nothing but thick mud. It would not take long for those parts to become treacherous as it was market day and many would be visiting the town. Walking past a few market traders setting up their stalls, he turned down another of the streets and soon came to the entrance to the town walls. Wishing the men on duty there a good morning, it was not long before he was at his father's resting place.

Kneeling beside the freshly moved earth, he sighed heavily. A lot of responsibility had fallen to him in a very short space of time, practically overnight. Alright, so he had been given a fair amount of responsibility over the previous years what with him being the eldest brother and his father constantly going away, but this was different. Those responsibilities whilst his father was away had never been permanent. Now it was left to him to take his father's place; he had to care for the family, make sure that they were well provided for, fed and sheltered which meant he had to get a well paid job. He knew that the money that they had saved and his father's last pay packet would not last long and though he did have some money saved up himself, separate from the rest, it was for a different purpose. He had put it to one side when he'd helped out at the last tournament, intending to save up for a sword or some chainmail, but now he knew it ought to be spent on keeping his family fed, clothed and sheltered. The problem was that he no longer had a job. He had worked for John the blacksmith originally, delivering orders and collecting materials but when John had died of an illness that had struck the town at winter Casimir had been unable to find anyone who would take him on. His brother worked but the money was poor, and he could not expect his sister to take on work if she was looking after them all. That was why he had considered his plans the moment he was told of his father's death, and now he knew what he had to do.

He had spoken to the Crowned Prince yesterday to ask if he could take his father's place and so he had been told to report to the castle in the morning. Casimir had smiled ever so slightly for he knew that no man would be turned away from becoming a guard. That was the thing about soldiers- they were disposable and easy to replace. What with the recent increase in assaults on the castle and the Kingdom Camelot needed as many soldiers as it could get. So Casimir was going to follow in his father's footsteps and could only hope that he would do Drystan proud. He knew that his mother would not like the idea of her son risking his life on a daily basis, never knowing if he would return home, but if it provided enough money for them to survive then so be it. Besides, there had to be a reason his father had taught him how to care for armour and horses, how to use a sword and fight. The money he earned from the job would allow him to be able to feed, clothe and shelter his family, pay the taxes and still have a little bit left over to help pay for his uniform.

He had no idea how long he'd been with his father before he had headed back to his home. There were a few more people milling about and he wished a good morning to those that he met, smiling sadly as a few offered their sympathies. His father had been well known by many of the people as he had always given a helping hand where he could. Sighing as he walked into his cottage, he was surprised to find Branwen up. It was still quite early and usually his family would not be awake by this time, let alone cooking breakfast. Sitting down at the table he then noticed the pile of chainmail.

"How did you...?"

"You mentioned something about it last night. I figured you'd be starting today so I thought I'd get it ready for you..." she shrugged

"Thank you."

"I mean, I know it's not the best but until we can get you a new set..." she trailed off as he sighed. Chainmail was expensive. To kit him out with the full uniform would cost a lot of money that they did not have, so he would just have to hope that his father's spare set would last a bit longer until he could replace it.

"Did mother come home last night?"

"Oliver brought her back. She's incredibly upset, but then we all are. I made sure she calmed down though before she went to bed but I don't want to wake her just yet."

"She's taken it very hard."

"We all have." Branwen sighed, setting down a bowl of porridge on the table for him. "I mean, we all knew that this day would come eventually..."

"Just not so soon?" asked Aleyn from the doorway.

"Exactly." They were silent for a few moments, each lost in their own thoughts. Casimir ate his breakfast whilst looking at the chainmail in front of him wondering what they would make of him today. After all he was a bit skinnier than his father and the set of mail had seen better days but it would have to do for the time being.

"What time do you need to be at the castle?"

"He didn't say. Just said in the morning."

"Well then" Branwen said, clapping her hands together "You ought to get ready." Casimir smiled, picking up the chainmail and wincing as he heard something clatter to the floor.

"Need a hand?" his brother offered. He just nodded.

About an hour or so later Casimir stood at the castle gates trying to work out just who he should report to. He had been told by Prince Arthur to go to the castle, but not who he was to ask for. He did not know if he should ask for the Prince or for someone else, but if he did ask and he wasn't meant to ask for Arthur then what? Pacing up and down by the gate trying to decide who to ask for, he soon found that he did not have to worry for too long for he spotted his friend walking towards him.

"Casimir? What are you doing here?"

"I was told to report to the castle this morning." He explained.

"In your father's uniform?"

"I'm taking his place."

"Well, you're a little bit early. Come on." Oliver smiled, leading him through the courtyard to the room the guards used when they were off duty. Sitting down at a table in the corner, Oliver fetched him a tankard of water and there they sat talking about Drystan, Camelot and the duties that a guard had to do. As they were doing this though Casimir realised that he had more than one set of eyes on him. At first he had believed that it was only curiosity for he was new, but now he kept catching parts of conversations which he did not like. He tried to ignore it at first but it was becoming increasingly harder to do so, especially as the remarks were far from kind, and a number of them were insulting his father. His friend noticed.

"Ignore them." Oliver told him. "They do it to all the new recruits. Rile them and see how long it takes for them to lose their temper." Casimir clenched his fists, trying desperately to do as Oliver said. It became too much though when one of them turned to him directly and said something about his father. It was the final straw and Casimir stood up, his sword drawn. The ringleader instantly met the challenge and the two began to settle their quarrel.

The other men stood to one side, cheering Erbin on. Oliver tried desperately to calm his friend down but it was too late, so all he could do was stand to one side and pray that they did not kill each other. Stools were thrown, tables upturned and general chaos ensued as there was little room left for swords to be used. Indeed it was not long before the blades were abandoned and hand to hand combat was used. Oliver winced as Casimir received a nasty blow to his head, but Drystan's son retaliated with a blow to the stomach. Whilst his opponent was winded he tried to get away but Erbin's friends had gathered around, preventing him from escaping. Pushing his way through them he made for the door but he felt strong arms pull him back.

"You should stop this now." Oliver told him.

"He insulted my father." Casimir practically shouted

"Your father wouldn't want this." His friend was trying to stay calm and wanting to prevent any further damage being caused.

"I was not brought up to be someone's whipping boy!"

"No one thinks that. But come on, what they're saying isn't true. You and I both know your father was a great man."

"If he was such a great man then how did he get himself killed?" One of the men shouted. That ended Oliver's argument. Casimir managed to duck out of the way of Erbin's fist and then struck him a blow to the head. Erbin was stunned for all of a moment before he retaliated. Moving about in the room, the two were tangled in a fist fight. Casimir felt the anger boil in his blood, but this anger was not just for the man and his insults. It was the anger he felt towards his father for dying and doing this to them. Throwing one final punch and felling the man, Casimir then noticed how quiet it had become. The others were no longer shouting and they were no longer encircling him.

"What is the meaning of this?" He winced as he recognised the voice. Getting to his feet he slowly turned around and instantly regretted what he had just done. He had no chance of keeping the job now, not that he had known for certain if he had secured it in the first place. He had failed. He would not be able to support his family as a result of his temper.

For there, standing just inside the doorway, was Arthur Pendragon himself.


	4. Chapter 3

Branwen hadn't seen her brother until later that evening. Her mother had spent the day in bed, feeling the effects from a day in the rain and too grief stricken to want to do anything. Aleyn had gone to work but was going to the tavern with friends afterwards, and so she had spent the day on her own. She had left her mother to rest whilst Branwen went about tidying the house and doing the chores. She'd been to the market to buy enough food to last them the week, washed the dirty clothes and had even gone to the woods to stock up on firewood. Having made the evening meal she had given some to her mother and had some herself, but left the rest waiting for Casimir whilst she set about doing some of the things she'd been putting off.

She was wondering how his first day had gone and hoped that the men had been kind on him. Oliver had told them of his own first day and she could only hope that the guards would not make Casimir lose his temper. She knew how her brother could react and it was not a good thing for him to be angry. He would regret it if he snapped, but then again, she reminded herself, it took a lot to make him lose his temper. She just prayed that he had not done anything stupid that may mean he lost the job before he had proven himself.

It was late evening when he walked into the cottage. His hair was a mess, his armour and face covered in dirt and she could see by the firelight that he had been in a fight. Sighing she silently fetched some clean water and a cloth and as he sat down she set to cleaning him up. She didn't ask how he had gained the bruises or how his first day had gone for she knew that he would tell her in his own time. Cleaning the last of the dirt from his face she then fetched him his dinner.

"Aren't you going to ask how my first day went?" he asked whilst she heated it up for him.

"How did it go?"

"Not too bad."

"The bruises? They train you hard?"

"I... I got into a fight."

"Casimir..." she sighed. He instantly cringed, hating the tone of voice she was using.

"And Arthur caught us."

"Who won?"

"I did. I tell you something, I thought I was in for it when the Prince turned up."

"So? What did he do?"

"Oliver explained what had happened. I'm on night duty for a month, and I have extra training as a result."

"But... You'll not cope!" Branwen pointed out. "Maybe not even survive. You know that Camelot is most at risk at night!"

"I will be fine. Don't you worry."

"But..."

"Besides, it's better that than the stocks or the dungeons."

"I would rather have you in the stocks or dungeons. At least that way I'd know you were safe!" She was trying desperately to keep calm but her voice rose slightly.

"It's his decision. I cannot go against it."

"Well why did you even get into the fight in the first place?" her brother didn't answer. "Casimir..."

"This guy... He kept on at me until I snapped. I couldn't help it."

"And? What did he say?"

"He insulted our father."

"Oh..."

They didn't speak much after that, and so Branwen left Casimir to sit by the fire whilst she retired to bed.

That had been a week ago now. Casimir had been returning from training at noon, sleeping for much of the afternoons and then going back to the castle in the evening. She hardly saw him for more than a few minutes at a time, and when she did see him he was looking very ragged. He barely spoke more than a few words to her, and steadily he was becoming more and more irritated. She had no idea how he was going to last the next three weeks, let alone how she and the rest of the family would cope. Her mother was still keeping to her room, suffering from a broken heart, leaving Branwen to run the household and that itself was taking its toll. Aleyn was not helping matters either. Every night for the past week he had gone to the tavern after work, and every morning she had found him nursing a rather sore head. To make things worse he had not just been having a few drinks with his friends after work. He had been drinking his wages away, trying to ease the pain of his father's death, and as a result he was suffering from rather bad hangovers and causing Branwen a lot more stress. She was less than sympathetic, knowing that the money could have been used for other things, and may even have been needed. She had kept telling him as much but he had simply groaned and told her to go away.

Wandering through the streets Branwen had no idea where she was heading. All she knew was that she had to get out of the house before she ended up shouting at one of her brothers. Both of them were struggling to come to terms with Drystan's death and were coping with it in their own ways. It was unfair. They had both done stupid things that would have a negative impact on the family, leaving her to pick up the pieces. That was the thing though. They had not quite taken into account that she was struggling to get used to her father not returning. She had gotten used to him not coming home for days at a time, but to know that he would not be walking through the door again hurt. She had shed tears at his funeral and when she had heard the news, but she had not cried since then. She was trying to stay strong and keep her family together just as it had reached the point of falling apart, but she had no idea how long she could stay like that. It was all well and good carrying on as if nothing had happened but there would come a time where it would all become too much and she would simply break.

That was not the only thing troubling her. She knew that they would need money, especially if they had to kit her brother out with a new uniform. Those things were not cheap, far from it, but neither was feeding and sheltering a family of four. Casimir's wages would only stretch so far and if Aleyn kept on drinking away his money then they would soon be in trouble. Either Aleyn needed to get a better job or she needed to find one. She knew it would take its toll on her if her mother did not recover and Branwen would be left to keep the house and work, but if they had enough money to live then it would be worth it, surely? Sighing, she came to a stop at the castle gates. She was not allowed to take a walk nowadays without having some purpose to it, and she knew that this needed to be done. Talking to the guard at the door, she was pointed in the right direction and was soon climbing up a spiral staircase.

She was looking for Gaius to see what he could do for her mother. Elayne had gotten worse though she had not wanted any help. Her daughter could not simply stand back and watch her mother waste away, and so she was doing this for her. She had gone out on the pretence of needing a walk to clear her head, but this was her true intent. Reaching the wooden door, she knocked and waited for an answer. This was one of the benefits of having someone in the family work in the castle. It meant access to the physician who also looked after the royal family. She was not waiting long.

The door was opened by the familiar boy that was Merlin. Branwen had seen him wandering about from time to time either doing errands for Gaius or following Arthur. She had bumped into him once in the woods when he had first arrived, having had to point him back to Camelot as he'd gotten himself a bit lost. She hadn't really spoken to him much, although her father had spoken highly of him. She flashed him a smile as he let her in, but her face soon fell when she found that Gaius was not in.

"I'm afraid he's gone to tend to one of the nobles. A bad reaction to a sting or something."

"Oh..."

"He shouldn't be too long though." He told her. "So you can wait if you want?" she just nodded, taking in the sight of the shelves filled with books, herbs, jars and glass vessels. This room had not changed for as long as she could remember which was comforting. Sitting down on the bench, she found herself watching Prince Arthur's servant bumbling about the room trying to complete whatever task he'd been doing when she'd knocked on the door. Both were silent, Branwen mesmerised by his constant chopping, Merlin concentrating on not cutting his fingers off. Besides, she had no idea what to say to him, having not had a chance to speak to him before. After all, what did you say to the man who looked after the heir to the throne? Thankfully she was not waiting long and within the space of a few minutes of Gaius coming in, he was being led through the streets to Branwen's house.

He left about an hour later, his diagnosis having torn through Branwen's heart. Her mother was not ill in the usual sense. It had been brought on by herself and so it was only her who could get rid of it. There were no medicines or remedies available to cure her mother. As Gaius had said, there was no cure for a broken heart. It was simply up to Elayne to recover, and Branwen had a bad feeling about that. She knew how much her mother had loved Drystan, and she knew that this bit would not be easy. She could only hope that her mother would recover, for her and her brothers' sakes if nothing else. Sighing, she sat at the table, head in hands, wishing that things would get better soon. Though she was soon to find that things got worse as Aleyn stumbled into the house, the strong smell of beer on his breath and an empty purse on his belt. That was not the worst part though, for he was soon to impart more bad news. He'd been fired from his job.

Branwen sighed. Things had just gotten one hell of a lot worse.


	5. Chapter 4

Branwen was not really happy, what with having had to drag her drunken brother from the tavern for the umpteenth time and with her eldest brother on night duty again. She should have been; considering Aleyn had now found himself a new job but he had gone and spent half of his wages on drink yet again. It was not the fact that he kept spending this money that annoyed her, so much as that he was no longer helping out around the house. Whilst he had been unemployed he had helped Branwen with her chores and they had happily worked side by side, but when Casimir and Oliver had brought the news that Camelot was in need of guards she had lost that help. Not only that but she was then told that both Aleyn and Casimir were to ride out the following day to aid one of the outlying villages which had been attacked by raiders. Her heart had sank at the news for she knew that both of them may not return but she knew that they had to go.

She'd said good bye to them when they left that morning, praying that they would stay safe. Her mother had finally come out of her room too, standing by her daughter's side as her two sons had rode off. Elayne had then returned inside whilst Branwen found herself walking towards the castle. She had no idea why she was walking, but she did not turn around. Her mind was filled with a number of thoughts as she tried to take her mind off her brothers, but nothing would work. She couldn't help but wonder if they would return alive, or what would happen if they were killed. What happened if they were struck unable to work? What then? Or what if one survived and the other didn't? She knew that her mother had already taken Drystan's death hard but what if her sons were killed now? Branwen sighed. The truth was that she was not only worried for her family; she was worried about herself. She still hadn't got used to her father's death, and if she lost her brothers now... Well she had no idea how she would cope. But the other thing that troubled her was that she felt helpless, and she hated feeling like that. You see, it was her who had been spending the money Casimir and Aleyn brought in on the essentials they needed to survive. She hadn't earned any of that money whereas her brothers were risking their lives daily in order to keep them alive. So if her brothers didn't return it would leave looking after the house and her mother to her. Sighing, she turned back to go to her cottage only to find servants in the castle running from one side to the other with various piles of fabric and sacks of food in their hands. There was to be a celebration apparently.

Heading back she was surprised to find a breathless and tired Oliver sat in her kitchen talking to Elayne. Joining them she was glad to hear that the celebrations at the castle were to celebrate him passing his test this morning and becoming a knight. When he had told her this she had curtsied elaborately, causing him to laugh and Elayne to leave them alone. Branwen had an idea what her mother was thinking but she didn't really want to dwell on it. Laughing and joking with him, she felt her mood lift and was sad to see him go, but he'd had to leave to get ready for his knighting. Having given him a hug she had watched him go to the castle and could only hope that it would all go well.

A couple of days passed by and though things appeared to be improving for Elayne and Branwen, the young woman could not help but have a terrible feeling that this was not to last. How right she would be she did not know, but she just hoped that it would not be that bad. Alas, it was not to be.

As she was putting out the candles that night she heard the sound of shouting and the clinking of armour. Curious she looked out of the window to see a number of armed men with lit torches in their hands moving down the main streets, setting fire to various houses and carts. It was not long before she heard screams and then the sound of clashing steel. Camelot was being invaded and with the Prince being away Branwen had an idea that this was not good. The recent patrols had not returned, having been killed by Cenred's men, and now Cenred's men were here whilst a number of soldiers were elsewhere. Of course if Camelot fell then it was bad news for them all. Feeling her heart beat rapidly she finished putting out the candles before going to find her mother. They had to get out of here, and fast.

But as she was hurriedly packing a bag with food the door burst open. She tried to run but it was no use as a hand covered her mouth. Struggling against him she tried to escape but it was useless. She was a dead girl.

"Shh... Branwen, it's me."

"Oliver?" she whispered as he released her. "What are you doing here?"

"Camelot's falling. You and your mother need to get out of here."

"We were going to, but surely you should be fighting..."

"You're more important." He said, and she could see in his eyes that he meant it. "You need an escort. The streets are swarming with Cenred's men."

"If they see you they'll kill you!"

"It's a risk I have to take."

"But..."

"Branwen, no arguing. Just this once do as I say."

"Fine." She sighed, tying her cloak around her shoulders. Her mother joined them and it was not long before they were creeping out of the cottage and down a few of the smaller streets, Oliver leading the way. Trying to ignore the shouts and cries of anguish and the sound of clashing steel, Branwen followed her mother and tried to stay calm. She knew what would happen to them if they were caught and she did not wish to dwell on it. Hurriedly crossing one of the roads, they reached the gates of Camelot but these were guarded with Cenred's men.

"Is there another way?"

"I'm afraid not." Oliver sighed. "I can provide a distraction whilst you sneak past."

"No!" Branwen uttered.

"You'll be killed." Elayne whispered. "We can't allow you to do that."

"If it keeps you safe then it's a price I'm willing to pay."

"No! I'm not losing you as well." Branwen told him. "Either we all escape or we all are captured." But she had not noticed the men coming up behind them whereas Oliver had. Drawing his sword he looked at the two women he had sworn to protect, one of which he would willingly die for, before uttering two words

"I'm sorry." And with that Sir Oliver ran out to meet the men. Branwen went to cry out as she watched the young man bravely fight them but he shouted for them to run. Doing exactly that she risked a look back and quickly regretted it for she saw him overcome. She was too paralysed to move and could only watch as Oliver fell. She went to run over to him but was prevented by her mother who held her back, tears streaming down both their faces. Staying where they were, they just held each other, letting each other cry on their shoulders.

Morning soon came to reveal last night's destruction. Smoke filled the air with the last flames burning themselves out. Carts and crates were strewn across the streets and not a single soul was to be seen. The castle no longer showed the Pendragon colours and the people hid in their homes filled with fear and dread. Things were not looking good for Camelot. But the sun revealed two figures huddled up in an alley near to the town walls. Branwen and Elayne had not moved but Oliver was not lying where he had fallen. After being defeated last night he had been taken to the castle, but neither woman knew if he was still alive. They could only hope that he was and that he would be safe and that Arthur would soon return to regain Camelot under Pendragon rule.

They went back to their cottage later that day, knowing that they would not be able to get past the men on the gate. Trapped in Camelot for the time being, Branwen prayed that her brothers would return safely and soon for at this moment it looked like they would need a miracle to save them from the dark days ahead. Last night replaying in her mind, Branwen helped her mother clean up their ransacked home in a daze, Oliver's words ringing in her ears and that last longing look he had given her before he had met those men. That look was haunting her and she had an idea that it would continue to haunt her for as long as she lived. But it had left her with questions and a feeling that she did not want. A feeling that would only cause her much hurt and heartache if the person it involved was now dead. Sighing as she blinked the tears from her eyes she sat down in the corner of her room and tried to forget what had happened last night.

That week was the worst week anyone had lived through. The townsfolk kept to their houses, fearful of going outside for Cenred's men were ruthless. Morgana was now Queen and she was ruling the kingdom with an iron fist, punishing all those who refused to swear allegiance to her. Of course many of the people had their faith in Arthur which angered her even more. Branwen, like many others, just hoped that Arthur would return and take back the throne for his father.

Then, one morning, the soldiers stormed into the town, emptying every cottage and forcing the people to the castle. Branwen clutched her mother's hand, both fearful of what was going to happen to them. Crowding around in the courtyard there were murmurs from the people, each wondering what was going to happen. Was this their punishment? Or were they being made to watch something? It became clear as the remaining Knights of Camelot were brought out and forced to stand in the middle of the courtyard, a number of Morgana's men standing in front of them with crossbows in hand. Branwen looked among the men and the breath hitched in her throat as she spotted him. He was still alive! Her joy was not to last.

The Knights refused to swear fealty to their Queen and so Morgana gave the order for her men to fire their crossbows. Branwen clutched her mother's hand tightly, not wanting to watch her friend slaughtered mercilessly in front of everyone. But just before she turned away she saw the men with crossbows turn to aim at the crowd. The people began to run as one of the men shouted. Branwen ran with her mother, trying to get away before they were hit. But it was too late and as they reached the other side of the castle gate her mother's hand fell from her own.

"Mother?" she asked fearfully, a lump forming in her throat.

"Branwen..." Elayne whispered, blood spreading out from the wound in her back. She fell and Branwen was sat cradling her in an instant.

"No... No you can't leave me!" she uttered, shaking her head.

"I'm so sorry." Drystan's wife croaked, one hand resting on her daughter's cheek.

"Please, no..." Branwen cried, tears falling from her eyes. Her heart felt like it was being torn apart as her mother's breath grew short.

"I love you. Tell your brothers...That I love them too."

"Don't leave me. You'll pull through." Branwen uttered trying to persuade herself that her mother was not dying. She had to pull through. She had to live. She just had to.

"I love you..." Elayne whispered, the light leaving her eyes. Branwen could only hold her mother in her arms, her tears flowing freely as she sat there cradling her body. She felt completely lost and alone, abandoned even. Her brothers were away, Camelot was being ruled by a heartless tyrant, and she was an orphan. The only other person she could turn to was being held in the dungeons. She was alone and she did not know how she would cope with all of this.

Had she not already suffered enough?


	6. Chapter 5

Oliver had turned up on her doorstep looking somewhat worse for the wear but very much alive. He would have looked better had he not left the castle the first chance he had got and the first thing on his mind had been Drystan's family. He had simply knocked on the door of Drystan's home and having got no answer he had walked straight in to find Branwen sat there, shivering in the cold but not doing anything about it.

"Branwen? Are you alright?" she didn't answer. In fact she didn't appear to have heard him. "Where's your mother?" she looked at him then, tears falling from her eyes.

"With father." She simply stated.

"But Drystan is..." he began before realising what she meant. "Oh... No, she didn't..."

"Crossbow bolt to the back. She never..." she sobbed. "She never stood a chance." Oliver could not have felt much worse. Indirectly it was his fault that his friend was now an orphan.

"I am so sorry. It should have been me, not your mother. If there was any other way..."

"Don't you dare say that." She scalded, wiping away her tears. "My mother is now with my father, something she's been yearning for since the news of his death. I..." she sighed, looking away from him. "I don't know what I would have done if it had been..."

"It is still my fault. If we had sworn loyalty to Morgana then no one else would have got hurt."

"You don't know that." She shivered. Oliver took off his cloak and wrapped it around her shoulders before setting about lighting the fire.

"Have you heard from your brothers yet?"

"They went out on patrol a few days ago, but the news is that all the patrols were slaughtered by Cenred's men." She sighed. "It looks like I'm on my own."

"You will never be on your own. I'll make sure of it."

"But..."

"Branwen, understand this, you will always have me." He told her, looking straight into her eyes.

He stayed with her that evening, making sure that she was fed and kept warm. Though he was exhausted and wanted nothing more than to bathe and have an early night he knew that she was more important. Only once she was settled in bed did he then turn to tending himself, washing the dirt and grime from his hands and face before looking at the wound on his arm. He had gained that from his fight with Morgause's men and hadn't had a chance to get it sorted yet. Grimacing at it, he had an idea that it was infected but he cleaned it and decided he would get it sorted out by Gaius at some point.

He had made sure that Branwen was alright that morning before he went back to the castle. The first thing he did was find Gaius to sort out his arm, and then he had found himself helping to move the rubble in the Great Hall. They were looking for Morgana but he had an idea that they wouldn't find her. As he helped though he found his mind drifting back to Branwen. She had looked so completely lost and heartbroken that morning and he knew that she would need someone to take care of her. With there being a rather big chance that she would not see her brothers again she would also need some form of income. An idea struck as he realised that there was a need for servants to help clean up the castle and that Branwen needed a job. Not only would it keep her busy and so form some kind of distraction but it would also provide her with money and she would be somewhere he could keep an eye on her. He had suggested it to her that evening when he had dropped some food off and though she had been reluctant at first she had soon relented.

So there she had been helping to tidy the Great Hall now that the fallen stonework had been removed when her brothers had returned. The patrol had ridden into the courtyard looking exhausted but they were alive nonetheless and the moment she was able to Branwen had ran to her brothers. She had quickly explained all that had happened in their absence and though upset at the news of their mother they were glad to find her alive and well.

In the weeks that followed the three siblings lived happily. Though they sorely missed their parents they looked after each other, each of their wages being spent on food and replacing worn out pieces of equipment. Things were looking very good, especially considering Aleyn had found himself a second job that didn't interfere with his duties as a guard but he hadn't told anyone what this job was. All Branwen and Casimir knew was that at random points there would be a few more coins in the pot than there should have been. Not that they complained for the money was to come in handy for food over the harsh winter. Had they known exactly where he was getting this money from though they would not have spent it, for the cost of it was to prove too high.

It was the beginning of spring when Branwen heard the news. She had been changing the sheets of her mistress' bed when Sir Oliver had come bursting into the room shouting for her. Waiting for him to catch his breath back she finished her job before hanging up the Lady Lililith's dresses in the closet.

"Whatever is the matter?"

"What? Why?" she asked, shutting the cupboard door.

"He has been helping known sorcerers to escape." And it all made sense. The extra coins from the second job had actually been bribes from prisoners wishing to escape. She sighed, knowing exactly what the punishment was to be and wishing that her brother had not been so stupid. Yes they had needed the money but it was not worth his life.

"Is there nothing you can do?"

"I can try to get him out tonight but..."

"And his trial?"

"Happening now."

"Does Casimir know?"

"I'm not sure." He told her as they left the room and headed towards the Great Hall. "I am sorry. I did try to warn Aleyn but..."

"Oliver, don't worry. Just let me see him." He nodded as they reached the doors, only to find two guards stood there.

"Can we go in?"

"I'm afraid not Sir Oliver."

"Not even his sister?"

"Especially not his sister." The young knight went to argue and Branwen simply leaned against the wall, wishing that this wasn't going to happen. Things had been going so well for once, and now she was going to lose yet another family member. She could just about bear having lost her father and her mother, but to now lose a brother... Especially the one she was closer to... She should have guessed that something hadn't been right. The instant Aleyn had been unwilling to tell them what his job was she should have realised that he was breaking the law. And the crime... To help a sorcerer had been bad enough, but in these times after Morgana had usurped Uther, well, there was no escape. The punishment would be a heavy one and Branwen guessed that she would have to prove her loyalty to the crown.

"What's going on here?" came a new voice. She looked up to see a tall man with shoulder length black hair and a beard, and recognised him instantly. He was quite popular amongst the servant girls as well as the young ladies at court.

"Gwaine, I was merely trying to go inside. Branwen's brother is on trial."

"Branwen?"

"That would be me Sir." She said, standing up properly. "My brother has gotten himself into trouble but he was merely trying to feed his family. I am sure he never meant any harm."

"Your brother?"

"Aleyn. He's one of the guards." Oliver explained.

"The crime?" The young knight whispered in Gwaine's ear and Branwen watched the look of concern and pity form on his face.

"Then I demand that you let her inside." The newcomer said. The two soldiers refused to move. "I am one of Prince Arthur's trusted men! I demand that you let this girl inside!" Branwen flinched at his tone.

"Sir, please, do not trouble yourself."

"It is no trouble." The two guards relented and stood to one side. Gwaine flashed her a quick smile but as he went to open the door two more soldiers stepped out with a young man held between them.

"Aleyn!"

"Branwen! I am so sorry!" He shouted. She hurried after them, following them to the dungeons and stood by the door of his cell. "I just wanted to make sure we were alright. I never... I'm sorry."

"It's alright." She smiled slightly. "Your punishment?"

"You know that. I'm a traitor."

"You were only trying to protect us!"

"I helped sorcerers escape. They are enemies of Camelot. That makes me a traitor."

"No... No, not you as well." She shook her head. Aleyn put his hands on her shoulders through the bars.

"I am so sorry. But you and Casimir will cope without me. I am sure of that. You are not to blame."

"Aleyn, please, there has to be something we can do..."

"I am afraid this is my last night."

"No!" she shouted. "You will not leave me!"

"I'm afraid I must do." He sighed, a single tear falling down his cheek. "Casimir will look after you. I love you, don't forget that."

"I love you too." She said, wishing that she could hug him. She would have stayed there all night to say her goodbyes but she was escorted out of the castle by two men. She shouted and screamed and tried to escape them but it was no use. Her last words to her brother had been a hurried goodbye as she had been ushered out of the dungeons, tears streaming down her face.

All she could do now was wait for tomorrow...


	7. Chapter 6

**Hey guys**

**Hope you like this next chapter.**

**Unfortunately it's going to have to be the last update for a little while as I'm going away and won't have access to the internet...**

**Please read and review as all reviews equal much love and cookies**

**Love**

**Fey of the forest**

He sat waiting for dawn to rise for to him the sooner this night ended the better.

He had not meant for this to happen. Alright he had known the risks but this time had been the last one. With enough money put to one side now he knew that he would not need to do this again. So he had taken the bribe and turned a blind eye as the magician hurried through the gate. He hadn't bargained on getting caught and in an instant he had been taken to the Great Hall to find the Court had been summoned. He already knew what was going to happen and he accepted his fate.

His sister had comforted him and he knew that she would forgive him. He hadn't seen Casimir though, and that troubled him. Did his brother not know of Aleyn's fate? Or did he simply not wish to see him? He didn't know. He had an idea it would be the former rather than the latter though, for he had always been close to Casimir and they would always be there for each other. Therefore he surely would not abandon his brother in his hour of need. So Aleyn chose to believe that Casimir had not been told. He hadn't been there with Branwen outside of the Great Hall and he hadn't come to see him. If Casimir had been told then surely he would've been there.

He received no other visitors. He was sure he had heard Oliver's voice but Aleyn was not allowed to be spoken to. In fact Branwen had only been able to see him thanks to one of Arthur's trusted knights. So Aleyn had resigned himself to being alone that night and thought on just what he would be leaving.

As the first rays of daylight broke through the metal grille at the top of Aleyn's cell, Casimir was to be found waking at home. His sister was pacing but he didn't know what was wrong with her. He had tried to ask but all he had gotten out of her were sobs. He himself had things on his mind. Having finished his night duty he had been told to report to the King. Having done so he had been told that he was to be the executioner in the morning and Casimir knew he could not argue. What the King said, happened. There would be no escaping this. What he did not know was who the poor wretch was that he was executing. He had tried asking his colleagues but they had all shaken their heads at him and walked away. He had tried to go to the dungeons but he had been refused entry. So he had been left to guess.

"Are you alright?"

"Kind of... You?"

"No." He sighed.

"How come?"

"I... I am to be executioner this morning." His sister visibly paled.

"No..."

"What?"

"You can't... Casimir, no."

"I wish I could get out of it, but..."

"You have to get out of it!" she snapped.

"It's King Uther's orders."

"Casimir, if you do this I will never forgive you." He knew that she meant it.

"You know who it is don't you? Who I am to execute?"

"Casimir, please..."

"Who is it?"

"I cannot say." She sighed.

"Branwen, tell me."

"I can't." She looked away from him. He supposed he should have guessed but it was not until he was stood on the stand that it all made sense.

They were both called to the castle before Casimir could get anything out of his sister. Branwen tried to stay in the courtyard, hoping that she would be able to help her brother escape or at least provide moral support but the same men who had escorted her out of the castle the previous evening had escorted her to Lilith's chambers. Standing by the window she could only watch helplessly as the scene unfolded below.

Aleyn was taken from his cell with his hands bound and his head held high. He had no tears to cry and no anger to take out on anyone. He only had himself to blame for this. He had come to this decision within moments of his sister leaving. He just had to accept his fate and greet death with dignity. He simply wished that he could speak to his brother one last time.

Led outside by two of his old colleagues, Aleyn looked at the crowd to see if he could spot either of his siblings and sighed when he couldn't. He looked for Sir Oliver but found him standing on the balcony to protect the King. And then he saw his sister, standing at one of the windows with tears in her eyes. He swore he could see two shadows behind her and knew then that she hadn't had any choice. She had been made to work today and so she was to be forced to watch his execution. A quick look was shared between them, things passing between them that had not been said. Aleyn then turned his back, closing his eyes as he walked through the crowd. Some of these people he had grown up with, all he had sworn to protect and now in his last minutes not one of them came forward to help him. Looking at his executioner Aleyn paled. Uther had planned this far too well, for his killer was to be his very own brother.

He forgave him instantly. He knew that this was a test of loyalty and that Casimir had been made to do this. The look on his brother's face also told him that Casimir hadn't had any knowledge of who he would be executing.

"I'm sorry." Aleyn mouthed at him as Uther spoke about magic and how it was an evil art. How all those who practised magic or aided those who practised magic were traitors to the crown and must pay the penalty for their crimes.

"Forgive me?"

"Of course." With that Casimir turned to the King.

"This is the traitor?" he called out.

"This is the man we caught aiding sorcerers to escape!" called one of Uther's bodyguards. Casimir looked to his brother to find a look of guilt in his eyes. "You know the penalty."

"And if I refuse?"

"Then you will join him." Casimir picked up the axe, weighing up his options. He had but minutes to decide whether to help his brother escape or to kill him. He had to work out which was stronger and worth more to him: the bonds of family and love or loyalty to the crown.

Branwen watched from the window, praying that her brother would make the right decision. She knew that either way she would lose both of them that day and that there was nothing that she could do to prevent it. As the drums rolled she knew that it was make or break time. Casimir had to decide what he was going to do and he had to decide quickly. She could see the guards edging closer to the stand and there were one or two more standing at the gates. She knew that her brothers had worked with these men but she had no idea if they would aid them if they tried to escape. Her heart racing she watched her eldest brother pick up the axe and lift it high. Wanting to look away she found herself staring at her youngest brother. This would be the last time she saw him alive and she wished nothing more than to be with him by his side as he died. Alas that was not to be.

So all she could do was stand and watch her two brothers in the courtyard. One who had the death sentence. The other who held his brother's life in his hands.

As the drums stopped and silence took the crowd no one dared to move. It was time for Casimir to decide.

And then the axe fell...


	8. Chapter 7

**Hey guys**

**Sorry for the long delay. But here's the next chapter.**

**Please read and review as all reviews equal much love and cookies**

**Love**

**Fey of the forest**

* * *

><p><em>All she could do was stand and watch her two brothers in the courtyard. One who had the death sentence. The other who held his brother's life in his hands.<em>

_As the drums stopped and silence took the crowd no one dared to move._

_And then the axe fell..._

* * *

><p>She turned and ran. She had no idea where she was heading nor did she care, so long as it was away from that room. She could still hear Casimir muttering to himself in the courtyard, asking himself what he had done, and she could see Aleyn's terrified eyes as he waited for the axe. Her youngest brother was dead. If that hadn't been enough it was her eldest brother who had slain him. Tears blurred her vision as she turned onto another set of stairs, but she didn't care. She just needed to get away.<p>

"Branwen?" she didn't stop, too busy trying to put as much distance between her and that courtyard as possible "Branwen?"

He was chasing her now but she didn't want anyone to catch up with her. She just wanted to be left alone so she picked up her pace as she turned down the next corridor and then onto the stairs that would lead her to the servant's quarters. It wouldn't be ideal but at least it would give her somewhere to hide away and let her tears fall. But as she reached the bottom of the stairs he caught up with her. His hand clasped hers and he refused to let her go. If she hadn't been so shaken she would have probably fought him off, but she was tired and upset, the image of her brother on the block fresh in her mind.

"Your brother?" she could only nod as he pulled her in for a hug. A bout of sobs escaped her lips as it struck her.

Her brother was gone.

Executed for the crime of feeding his family.

It was hardly fair.

Alright so his methods had not exactly been legal or safe, especially with a King who would as soon as kill someone who mentioned sorcery let alone an actual sorcerer, but he had only been trying to provide for his family. It had been his only crime and he had paid the ultimate sacrifice for it. His heart had been in the right place but his methods had hardly been the best. Even so, surely that hadn't been enough to lose his life?

The young man whose shoulder she was crying on did not say a word. He simply held her to him, offering his support as she let out her grief. She felt so much like a small child but that didn't matter. She didn't want kind words. She just needed someone to be there for her, and there he was.

"_Mer-_lin!" a cry came some time later. Drying her eyes Branwen looked up to see that the young man had an apologetic look in his eyes. He had to leave to do some job for the son of the man who had ordered her brother to his death.

"I'm afraid I have to..."

"Merlin!" another cry came, louder this time.

"It's alright."

"You sure?"

"I'll be fine."

"MERLIN!" the Prince was getting more annoyed too.

"Go." She smiled slightly as she spotted the damp patch on the shoulder of his tunic. Watching him run off to go do his duty she picked herself up and wondered what she should do. She knew that she couldn't face the courtyard alone which meant she was stuck in the castle, so she may as well go back to her work.

Reaching her lady's room she set about cleaning and tidying up, trying to concentrate purely on the task in hand rather than on what had happened that morning. Staying clear of the windows she tidied Lilith's dressing table and folded her clothes before turning to the bed. Changing the sheets she put the dirty ones into a basket and then figured she ought to scrub the floors, but to do that she would need water. That meant crossing the courtyard. Twice. She couldn't face that.

So instead she decided she would take the washing down to the laundry room in the servants' quarter. Picking up the basket she took a deep breath to steady her nerves. This would be tough, especially considering she had few friends among the people who worked in the castle and it was well known that they liked to gossip. They really weren't going to be kind about her brother but she couldn't avoid them forever and the sooner she faced them the better. Leaving the room she walked down the corridor and took the shortcut. She had something to do and the sooner she got it done the better.

The laundry room was as big as the kitchens and had a large fire at one side to allow water to be heated quickly. In the corner was a pump that connected straight to the reservoir and along the walls were drains to allow waste water out of the room. In the room next door were a number of lines where washed clothes and sheets could be hung up in order to dry with more than one fire in the place. It was no wonder that the servants liked to congregate here on the coldest days in winter. Always though came the chatter of people, for servants very rarely came to wash their master's or mistress' clothes alone. It was the perfect place to catch up on the latest comings and goings in the castle and was the source of all gossip. Hardly anything happened in Camelot without some of the servants discussing it. This was why Branwen wasn't looking forward to doing this, but there would be no avoiding it.

She was glad to find that there were only a few people inside, but when she saw who they were her heart fell. They were the worst offenders for gossiping. Branwen knew she had to get this over and done with quickly, so she put the sheets into a tub already full of water and rolled up the sleeves of her dress. Picking up some soap she began to wash the sheets, trying not to take any notice of the people watching her.

"I'm sorry about your brother." A voice said about ten minutes later. It was Alyss and as she put in her own lot of laundry she glared at the other servants. "He didn't deserve that."

"I know." Branwen sighed. Alyss was the same age and one of the few servants she was actually friends with. "All he wanted to do was make sure we were well provided for."

"Well maybe you should have learnt to live off less." One of the older servants snidely commented.

"Excuse me?" Alyss could scarcely believe her ears. Branwen chose to ignore the comment, instead focusing on cleaning the sheets and scrubbing quite hard at them as she bit her tongue.

"Perhaps if she learnt her place as a servant and hadn't spent their money then her brother may still be alive." Alyss stared at the woman. She knew that these words weren't true. Branwen had struggled to make ends meet since the death of her parents, the money being spent on food and uniforms for her brothers, and she certainly hadn't put on airs and graces.

"You're saying that it's her fault that Aleyn is gone?" Branwen continued to bite her tongue and fight the tears forming in her eyes, but she knew she wouldn't be able to take much more.

"It is indeed."

"But..."

"And he was aiding sorcerers. He's a traitor!"

"The whole family must be traitors." Another joined in.

"Traitor!" Not wanting to hear any more she turned and fled from the room.

She only got so far before her legs buckled and she fell down the last few stairs that led down to one of the corridors. Staying where she had fallen ignoring the dull ache from the fall, she let her tears flow freely. How could they have said that? Or meant it? Her brother had been kind to them and he had only been trying to look after his family. It was only what anyone else would do. And how could they have been so unkind? She had suffered enough already and now for this...

"Branwen?" she looked up to see a dark figure walking towards her. "It is Branwen isn't it?" she could only nod. "What are you doing here? Surely you should be with your family?" that brought on a fresh bout of sobs.

"My... my family are dead..."

"All of them?"

"May as well be." She sighed, trying to stop her tears.

"Come on, with me."

"But..."

"No arguments." He said, wrapping an arm around her waist and helping her to her feet. "Besides, I can't let you stay where Arthur's men will trip over you." He smiled.

It wasn't long before Branwen was sat in front of a fire with a cloak draped around her shoulders. Gwayne, for it was him who had found her, was busy pouring out two goblets of wine whilst she simply stared blankly at the flames. She had finally ran out of tears to cry but her mood hadn't lifted. How could it with what she had faced today?

"Uther executed your brother? Was he the last?"

"Uther ordered my eldest brother to kill the youngest. I can never forgive Casimir for what he did."

"Oh... Now that is cruel." Gwayne sighed, handing her a goblet. "For the shock." She took a small sip and grimaced at the taste.

"My father was killed defending one of the border villages, and my mother killed by Morgana's men." She explained as he sat down opposite her. "I'm the last one left."

"You really can't forgive your eldest brother?"

"He killed Aleyn. He's the one responsible for executing him. How can I forgive him for taking Aleyn away?"

"Surely your brother, will be suffering from a lot of guilt? He'll be needing you right now." She knew what he was saying was true but she didn't want to hear it. Casimir was responsible for her brother having gone. That was all that kept repeating itself in her mind.

"I don't know... I'm not sure if I can face him right now."

"And you don't want to stay in the castle?"

"I can't. The servants are all talking about me and my family. But I can't go out of the castle without walking past my brother's execution spot and I can't face that..."

"The servants?"

"Called me a traitor..." she sighed, the wine, the warm fire and the past twenty four hours catching up with her. She wanted nothing more than to curl up and fall asleep, but she couldn't. Not here in a knight's chambers... but the urge to sleep was becoming more and more overwhelming.

"Because of your brother?" she nodded. "Pay no attention. Servants are known for gossiping and telling lies." He shrugged. "Unless..."

"I have no wish to be executed, or to bring any harm to Camelot." She assured him, stifling a yawn.

"Even though..."

"Yes." She sighed, handing him the empty goblet.

"I mean, I wouldn't blame you for wishing harm on the King after what he did. It was cruel, and to make your brother do the deed... Well, it won't exactly gain him support now, will it?" he said as he refilled the drinks. "I mean, few people are happy with him since the whole Morgana incident, but this? I reckon things are gonna get a lot worse before they get better." She didn't say a word. "Especially as Uther is getting even stricter on magic..." he trailed off as he looked up to find the grief stricken girl fast asleep in her chair. Smiling ever so slightly and not wanting to wake her, he simply picked up a blanket and wrapped it around her. She could stay there for the time being, and hopefully things would look a bit brighter for her in the morning.


	9. Chapter 8

**Hey guys**

**I know it's been a while since I last updated but uni work kind of took over... Hope you'll forgive me.**

**Anyway, hope you like this next chapter.**

**Please read and review**

**Love **

**Fey of the Forest**

* * *

><p>Cold, tired, aching and soaked to the bone, Sir Oliver led his patrol back to Camelot knowing that there was no point staying in the forest for much longer. They had spent the day looking for the sorcerer that Aleyn had helped to escape but so far they had found no sign of him. They had searched the town and then each of the knights had been given a group of men to search the surrounding area. Oliver knew he was lucky in that he hadn't been sent to one of the border towns for he had no wish to be away from the castle any longer than necessary. Because all day only one person had been on his mind and all he wanted to do was to take her in his arms and tell her that everything was going to be alright.<p>

Upon reaching the legendary castle Sir Oliver dismissed his men and then, giving a quick report to the young Prince, he himself was allowed off duty. Usually after a day such as today the knight would have had a hot bath and dried off before taking an early night, but today was an exception. Instead of heading to his quarters he began to look for Branwen, because he knew that she would need a friendly face, and so he started at her lady's room but with no sign of her there he began to check the haunts of most of the servants.

Leaving a trail of water behind him and looking very much like a drowned rat, he sighed with frustration as, after looking around the castle for the third time, he had still found no sign of her. Worried now he walked to her cottage and was surprised to find that there no candles lit in the window. In fact there appeared to be no light coming from the house which he knew was unusual. Walking inside he half expected to find it empty but instead he was greeted by Casimir curled up on the floor by the hearth and a strong smell of ale. It was obvious that the blonde guard had taken to drowning his sorrows and Oliver could only imagine what the man was going through. After all, to be ordered to execute anybody would take its toll, but when that someone was your youngest brother... He couldn't blame Casimir for getting drunk really.

He had to admit he was half tempted to just leave his friend where he was, but something made him stay. Perhaps it was because he was his friend and that's what friends did. Or perhaps it was because he knew that Branwen would have enough playing on her mind that a drunk brother would just be too much for her to cope with. Whatever the reason, he was staying, and so Oliver knelt beside Drystan's eldest son to find the man unconscious. Sighing he picked him up and carried Casimir to his bed so that he could sleep off the effects of the alcohol, and the knight had no doubts that his friend would be suffering from a nasty hangover in the morning. Leaving the man to sleep Oliver then poked his head around the door that led to Branwen's room. He had never been inside that room as she had never allowed her to, but this time was different.

He did intend to just give it a quick look, but curiosity ended up getting the better of him and instead of just turning to look elsewhere when he found she wasn't there he found himself wandering inside. Lighting a candle in order to see better with he took in the sight of a very tidy room. He had half expected that, but what he hadn't expected was for it to be so empty. The only two pieces of furniture were the bed and the wooden chest that held her clothes, but that was it. There was hardly anything else there, and he had the sneaking suspicion that this had not always been the case. He had heard Aleyn and Casimir discussing ways of making some more money and he knew that Branwen would have wanted to do her bit. Even though he had offered to help she had always turned him down, and now Oliver was beginning to see that things weren't as good as Branwen had made them out to be. Things would only get worse for her too.

Going to leave he then paused as he spotted something familiar by the fireplace. It was one of his tunics that he had asked her to mend, and it seemed that she had done as he'd asked. Feeling more than a little cold as the water had seeped through his chainmail he knew he really ought to be changing out of his wet things. Pulling off his sodden cloak and mail he switched his tunic for the dry one and smiled at the warmth of the fabric against his cold skin before gathering his things and heading back outside. Thankfully the rain had eased off into no more than a light shower and so he quickly wandered to the Drystan's and Elayne's graves, thinking that she may be there. With it getting quite dark though he knew that it would not be safe for her to stay there if she was there, so he picked up his pace, but as he reached the burial ground he found no sign of her.

He cursed.

He had wanted nothing more than to go to her the moment the axe had fallen, but as he had turned to abandon his duties Sir Leon and Sir Lancelot had caught him and reminded him of his duties. He had very quickly then been sent on patrol and in the time he had been looking for sorcerers Branwen could have gone anywhere. With horror Oliver realised that she may not even still be in Camelot anymore, though the girl didn't strike him as one to run away from her problems. If he knew her at all then she would have tried to carry on as normal, and so she would be somewhere in the citadel. The question was where.

Heading back to the castle he dropped off his wet things in his chamber and quickly changed into something a lot more warmer and comfier whilst racking his brains trying to work out where she could be. She wasn't with her brother, and she wasn't working for her mistress, nor was she visiting her parents. He had checked the castle a few times but that hadn't been fruitful, and he couldn't think where else she would go. But he knew she had been in Lilith's chambers at the time of her brother's execution. Someone must have seen her since then, and probably by someone who had to go from one side of the castle to the other quite frequently too. One person sprang to mind and he hurried to go see them.

Knocking rather quickly on the door, Oliver waited impatiently for it to be answered. He didn't have any time to waste, because he knew that the more time he wasted looking for her, the more likely she was to have moved on by the time he got there.

"Alright! Alright!" the door was opened to reveal the court physician, who upon taking one look at the knight ushered him in. "I'm sorry about this morning. I know he was a good friend of yours."

"Very."

"But what can I do for you?"

"Have you seen Branwen today? I know she must have been shaken and I thought that maybe..."

"She would have come by for something to calm her down?" Gaius finished. Oliver simply nodded. "I'm afraid I haven't seen her at all today. Poor girl. She really has suffered these past few months."

"I know, which is why I need to find her."

"I'm afraid I can't help you. Do none of the servants know where she's gone?"

"She doesn't really get on well with any of them as far as I'm aware."

"Then I suppose she'll have avoided them today."

"Probably." Oliver sighed. "Well, if you see her can you tell her I'm looking for her?"

"Of course."

"Thank you Gaius." The young knight gave a slight smile before leaving.

Going back down the stairs, Oliver was trying to work out where he would find either of the two people he was looking for and didn't notice the other person until it was too late and the two of them landed in a disgruntled heap at the bottom of the staircase.

"Sorry." Oliver apologised as he helped the other up. "Merlin?" Just the person he had wanted to see.

"Sir Oliver, sorry about that."

"No worries. You haven't seen Branwen today have you?"

"This morning. She was really quite upset."

"Have you seen her since?"

"Afraid not, though I did hear that some of the servants were less than kind to her in the laundry room this afternoon."

"And you haven't heard of her since?"

"Sorry." Arthur's servant shook his head. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

"I don't think so... Thanks anyway."

His next stop was the laundry room. Normally he didn't venture into that particular part of the castle but he was desperate to find her. Hearing the bells strike the hour he realised that most of the servants would be with their respective masters and mistresses preparing them for bed, but he could only hope that someone would be inside the laundry room who would be able to help him. Walking inside he found the tubs were empty and a number of baskets were stacked on one side of the room, but there was no one there. Sighing he was about to give up hope when he spotted a door, and curiosity got the better of him. Walking through it he found a number of lines hung up across the room with various items of clothing hanging up from them. In one corner though stood a serving girl folding up a number of garments.

"Excuse me, I don't suppose you could help me?"

"What can I do for you sir?" she asked, not in the least but startled by his sudden appearance in the room.

"I'm looking for a girl."

"Aren't most young men?" she asked with a smile.

"I'm looking for one in particular. She's quite pretty, has brown hair, and goes by the name of Branwen." She dropped the dress she had been folding and stared at him in disbelief.

"Aleyn's sister?"

"That's the one."

"She was here earlier, but the others weren't exactly sympathetic. Called her a traitor."

"What?" no wonder he couldn't find her. If that was the case then she would be hiding, and from the number of games of hide and seek he had played with Branwen, Casimir and Aleyn when they were younger he knew that if she didn't want to be found then you wouldn't find her.

"She fled the room after that. I tried to catch up with her but she was too quick."

"Do you have any idea just where she could have gone?"

"I think I heard one of my colleagues say something about seeing one of the knights with a girl matching Branwen's description." Oliver's eyes widened. He knew just exactly what some of the knights were capable of, and Branwen was in a very vulnerable position right now.

"Which knight?"

"I... I'm not sure."

"Please, you have to remember." He begged.

"I think it might have been Gwayne... I'm not certain."

"Thanks." He called as he ran from the room.

Banging on the door of the knight's chambers, Oliver could only hope that Branwen was safe. He knew that Gwayne had a bit of a reputation concerning women but he really did not want Branwen being added to that list. Not caring that it was getting late and that he was probably waking everyone else up, he knocked loudly and insistently until he got an answer.

"You'll wake up the whole castle if you carry on like that!" Gwayne said as he opened the door. Oliver simply pushed past him and looked around the room, unsure as to what he would do next. But it was with a slight smile that he found the girl curled up fast asleep in a chair in front of the fire. "Ah, you've been looking for her?"

"Since I got back from patrol. How long has she...?"

"Not long. About an hour or so."

"But what is she doing here?"

"Found her in the corridor, tears streaming down her face. I couldn't leave her there, not like that. I was going to take her home once she had calmed down but..."

"She fell asleep?"

"Exactly." Gwayne smiled as he stood beside his colleague who hadn't taken his eyes off the sleeping Branwen since he had found her. "I didn't want to wake her either. She seemed so distressed."

"She hasn't exactly had the best of times recently." Oliver agreed. "But we ought to move her. The servants are already having a field day after what's happened with her brother. If it's found out she spent the night here..."

"You know where she lives?"

"I'm a very good friend of the family. Grew up with her and her brothers." Gwayne looked at him and noticed something there in Oliver's eyes. Something that seemed so obvious and yet so well hidden at the same time. "I care a lot for her."

"So I can see. Well, shall we wake her?"

"As much as I hate to say it, I suppose we should." Kneeling beside the sleeping girl, Oliver gently shook her shoulders. "Branwen, time to wake up." He said softly. She moaned and shifted a little, but he tried again until, bleary eyed, she looked at him.

"Oliver?"

"Hello." He cooed.

"I.. I must have fallen asleep... The fire, and the wine, and..." she sat bolt upright as she realised where she was. "I am so sorry my lord." She apologised as she spotted Gwayne, who had been watching the whole scene with a knowing look on his face.

"It is no problem Branwen. Now Oliver is going to take you home."

"Thank you, for letting me..." he cut her off.

"It is no trouble. Good night."

"Good night sir." She said, allowing Sir Oliver to lead her from the room.

She walked in a bit of a daze as Oliver had his arm wrapped around her shoulder as they headed out of the castle. He had already wrapped his jacket around her body and all he wanted to do now was make sure that she was safe. Shivering slightly as they stepped into the cold night air, the two of them hurried across the courtyard and then through the streets of the upper town until they reached her house. Finding that it wasn't much warmer here, Oliver let her get ready for bed whilst he checked in on Casimir. Finding him to be just as he had left him, he then found Branwen curled up in her bed. Hesitating by her door he knew he should go to his own chamber but the urge to wrap her in his arms and protect her from everything was overwhelming. He knew she would never let him though. She didn't see him in that way, and that was something he knew he would have to accept.

"I ought to be..." he began, but stopped as she looked up at him.

"Oliver..."

"Yes?"

"Thank you." She said softly.

"You're welcome." He smiled slightly. "Is there anything else you need?"

"The fire... I can't seem to get it sorted..."

"Let me?" she simply nodded, and he noticed then that she hadn't lit any candles either. Quickly having the fire lit he found it hard not to look at her, because he knew that if he did he wouldn't be able to stop looking. "Is that all?" She went to speak but then appeared to think better of it.

"That's everything." She hesitated as their eyes met. He knew there was something she wasn't saying but he didn't want to pry.

"Then I shall say good night. Sleep well." He bid as he walked out of the room. He was half way down the stairs when he heard his name, and he was back at her door within seconds. "Yes?"

"Will you... I know it's a lot to ask, but... Will you stay with me?"

"As you wish." He said, closing the door behind him. Going to lie down on the floor he found her patting the bed, and before he knew it she was wrapped in his arms, sleeping peacefully with a smile on her lips. It was not at all long before he was following suite.


	10. Chapter 9

**Hey guys, **

**Sorry for the delay**

**Yet again uni's gotten in the way**

**Anyway, hope you enjoy this chapter**

**Please r&r**

**And also, hope you have a Merry Christmas and a Happy New year**

**Love**

**Fey of the Forest**

* * *

><p>She had woken that morning with a content smile on her face. After the day she'd had the day before she knew she shouldn't be smiling, but she couldn't help it. She had slept so well, and she had an idea that was only because she knew she wasn't alone. She thought she had lost everything until last night, but then she had gained something. Something that had been there all along but she had only just realised it was there. She had known she had his friendship, but now she had gained his protection. She didn't know if that would be there for long though, considering what half the town's residents thought of her. She hoped that he would stay, but a big part of her knew she dared not to rely on that. After all, she had gone and lost almost everything that she loved. She didn't want to risk losing him as well.<p>

But as she had opened her eyes she noticed that she was alone in bed. Now she was certain she had fallen asleep with Oliver's arms around her but he was nowhere to be seen. Sitting up she looked around and wondered if she had imagined the whole thing before she heard someone moving about downstairs. Not knowing that her brother was next door, Branwen wrapped a blanket around her shoulders and grabbed the closest weapon like item to hand before going downstairs. She refused to be burgled now after everything else she had been through.

Creeping silently down the steps she reached the kitchen where the intruder had his back to her, and she went to strike him only to recognise him.

"Oliver?"

"Morning." He smiled, before tilting his head to one side as he saw what she was holding. "What are you doing with that?"

"I...I thought you were intruding..." she admitted, before noticing what he'd been doing. "But you were making breakfast apparently?"

"I was going to bring it up to you." He told her, scratching the back of his neck.

"Oh...Well, I can go back upstairs if..."

"No point now." He sighed, sitting her down at the table and serving her breakfast. "Now, I've got you and your brother the day off, and if you don't want to go back then I can soon find you another job..."

"Oliver?"

"Yes?"

"Thank you." She smiled

"It's no trouble." And he meant it.

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><p>At least two weeks had passed since that fateful day and things were getting worse. Not just for Branwen and her brother, but for everyone else too. If they thought that Uther had been tough on magic before then they were to have their eyes opened now, because anyone who had even offered to help someone with the slightest hint of magic was now being punished. Even those who'd had no idea that the people they were helping had magic were being persecuted. These were dark days for Camelot. Dark days indeed.<p>

Of course things had gotten bad after Morgana taking over but now things were a lot different, and the curfew was being strictly enforced. Anyone so much as caught opening their front door after dark was at least arrested and spent the night in the dungeons. Those caught out of doors were put in the stocks for at least a day and if it was thought that they were up to something then the punishment was severe. Camelot was no longer a nice place to live, and there were whispers about Uther's tyrannical streak. Of course the King was getting weaker, his heart having been broken by Morgana's betrayal, but it appeared he was still using his power to rid the kingdom of sorcerers. And though the knights hated what they were doing, they dared not to disobey orders.

Casimir had returned to work but two days after Aleyn's execution, a fact that had shocked Branwen who had thought he would not work for Uther at all. But though he had resumed guard duty she barely saw him, for he had taken to spending the nights in the guards quarters, drinking with his colleagues to try and forget what he had done. She knew that much because of the state he returned home in, smelling of stale ale and looking worse for the wear. She was also kept informed of his drunken behaviour by his colleagues, a fair few of whom had taken it upon themselves to look after her. She wasn't complaining about that, not in the least.

Since Aleyn's execution Branwen had found Sir Oliver becoming much more closer to her, him spending many of his evenings visiting her and making sure that she was well. More often than not he would feed her and keep her company whilst her brother drank himself to an early grave, and he gave her his shoulder to cry on whenever she needed it. Branwen would even go so far to say that if it wasn't for Oliver then she would have probably broken by now. She hadn't returned to work yet, though according to Oliver she was welcome to resume her duties whenever she wished. So far she hadn't been able to face the castle but she knew that they needed the money, what with Casimir drinking his wages and her not wanting to rely on Sir Oliver for everything. Though she hated the idea of working for the man indirectly responsible for the deaths of most of her family it was the only option available to her.

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><p>Rain poured down from the heavens and thunder echoed over the landscape as Branwen wrapped her cloak around her shoulders and left the house. She was shaking with nerves, and it was hard not to relive the day she lost her brother. Desperately trying to keep her mind from that event she walked through the streets, ignoring the stares she received from the people she passed, as she knew that she had been the focus of their gossip. She silently cursed as she turned the corner onto the main road for she spotted a royal carriage in the distance. There were to be guests at the castle, and she didn't want to have to serve them. If she was to return to work she would resume serving Lilith and no one else.<p>

Reaching the castle gates she gave a slight nod to one of the guards before taking the stairs into the castle, desperately trying to fight the urge to cry as she crossed the spot where Aleyn had died. Oliver had promised her that he'd meet her by his chambers, but when she got there she found no sign of him. Knocking on the door she received no answer and wondered where he could be, before she spotted one of his colleagues walking past.

"He's been sent on patrol, but you've still got your job. Lady Lilith is waiting for you."

"On patrol?"

"Sent out this morning. Still trying to find the sorcerer your brother released."

"Oh..."

"Listen, do you know where you're going? Because I have to be in the courtyard..." she simply nodded, letting the brunette man run past her.

She'd been left in that room on her own whilst her lady went to dine with the newcomer. Lilith had been watching from the window when Branwen had arrived, commenting on how stern the figure looked. She hadn't been looking forwards to lunch, but she had been curious and with a gentle nudge from Branwen, Lilith had gone to find out more. Tidying up, Branwen stayed clear from the window and busied herself with the long list of jobs that she'd been given. She would certainly be kept busy for at least the next few days looking at it, as she definitely had a lot to catch up on from her time off. Apparently she hadn't been replaced, and she had no idea if that was a good thing or not...

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><p>Sir Oliver sighed. Yet again he was out in the rain in the forest trying to find a sorcerer who by now was probably on the other side of the country. However, if you tried to explain that to the King you would be laughed at and told that it wasn't possible. Oliver's group had already combed the woods that surrounded Camelot at least twice now and both times had found no sign of anything in the least bit magical. No one could blame him then for having small hopes this time round too. After all, with Uther and Arthur having cracked down on magic more so than ever before, anyone even slightly connected to the Old Religion would have to be a fool to stay in the vicinity of the citadel. Trekking through the woods, he sincerely wished he was back in Camelot in the warmth of the Great Hall with his colleagues.<p>

They had a guest arriving today you see, a very important guest. The Prince's Uncle was arriving to help take some of the strain from Uther's and Arthur's shoulders and everyone in Camelot had been looking forward to it. Oliver had wished to join the feast held in their honour, for lord knew it would be warmer and drier than out in the rain. But he'd arrived that morning to be told he was to go on patrol and so here he was.

It was just gone mid afternoon when they stumbled across it. The rain had thankfully stopped for a little while, though the dark grey clouds in the sky indicated there was to be more later. They were about to turn back when they spotted a cloaked figure run past them. Intrigued, Oliver motioned for them to follow and as they came over the ridge they found a camp filled with magicians. Trying to remain out of sight so as to keep the advantage of surprise, he worked out a plan of action and was all ready to attack when his eyes rested on one very familiar figure.

"Sir? Should we attack?" one of the younger men asked. Oliver couldn't say anything. He just stared at this one man. It couldn't be who he thought it was, but he looked so much like him...

"Sir?" Oliver simply nodded and motioned for them to move in. But it was too late. Their element of surprise was lost, and they found themselves surrounded. With the odds too high against them, he knew it was pointless defending themselves. Led into the camp as prisoners, Oliver looked around and was certain he was right.

"Who leads you?"

"I do." Oliver said, stepping forward as their leader inspected them.

"And you are?"

"Sir Oliver."

"A knight of Camelot?" Oliver knew he needn't answer. His cloak said it all. "Then you are responsible for this man's fate?" The leader pointed to the figure Oliver had spotted earlier. "You are the one who tried to execute him?" The knight paled, knowing that this had to be some trick. It simply couldn't be him. It couldn't be Branwen's brother. He was dead. He couldn't be here staring at him right now.

"Aleyn?"


	11. Chapter 10

**Hey guys**

**I am so sorry about the long time between updates. Unfortunately Uni has kept me very busy this year :/**

**Anyway, hope you enjoy this next chapter, and as always, please review. **

**Indeed, reviews will probably mean more frequent updates**

**Love**

**Fey of the forest**

* * *

><p>He was in trouble.<p>

Not just a bit of trouble.

Serious trouble.

He knew it. His colleagues knew it. But somehow, his sister, the only one remaining of his family, had no idea. Not that this was unusual. After all, he rarely saw her nowadays, and even when he did he was usually too drunk to notice. But right now, at this very moment, he needed her more than ever. He had gone and done something very stupid, and she was the only one who could probably help him. That's why he was walking to his cottage, for the first time in a very long while sober, and with a very serious look on his face as he was deep in thought.

He had not been right since his brother's execution, and since then things had gone from bad to worse for Casimir. He had kept his job, planning on being able to keep Branwen comfortable, but had only thrown away his wages on drink. He had thought he would have been able to cope with what he had done, but inside he was being torn apart, and drink had been his only solace. On more than one occasion he had ended up being thrown out of the tavern in the early hours of the morning so they could close, Casimir being so drunk that he had often woken on the street beside it. Not only had he turned to drink but he also gambled. It had been harmless at first, just another distraction, but he had soon built up debts. Those debts had only increased, and he was getting himself into trouble with the people he owed money too. Not only was there the drinking and gambling, but he had gotten himself into the wrong crowd. It was the latter that had created the trouble he was now in.

The wrong crowd had not seemed like that at first, Casimir mused as he turned onto his street. It had all started off two or three days after Aleyn's execution. Casimir had gone to the tavern with some of his colleagues, and they had been discussing the new laws that Uther had implemented. There were one or two comments about how Arthur would make a much better king than his father, and they had agreed that Uther was becoming a very cruel man. A few others had chipped in, some with more dangerous comments than others, and before he knew it, Casimir was meeting up with about ten others every week in the middle of the night to discuss Uther's tyranny and what should be done.

Mainly they wanted Arthur to become King of Camelot, for they had faith that he would not be as harsh as his father. However, all of them knew that the young Pendragon would never assume the throne so long as his father still lived, regardless of how weak the elder Pendragon was. But that meant that if they wanted to see their ideas in reality then Uther must die.

All too soon these meetings were no longer merely for grumbling, but plans and plots were being developed. He should have stopped attending then, but for some reason he had kept going back, and before he realised, he was far too heavily involved in a plot to kill the king to back out.

Yes, he didn't like Uther's laws. He hated the man for what he had done to their family. He did not agree with the cruel laws and harsh treatment of people who had only the faintest connection with magic. And yes, Arthur would more than likely make a far better king than his father. But that didn't mean that Casimir wished his King dead. The others may have done, but surely the murder of King Uther would only make things a lot worse than they already were in the long run. After all, what would Arthur's reaction be if he discovered his father was murdered by one of his trusted subjects? For all of them fitted that description.

Every meeting without fail consisted of him, a few guards, some servants of varying stations and a few nobles. The noblemen already had their own faction in the court, but none of them were quite as prepared to get their hands dirty as this group were. Though courtiers were willing to do almost anything it took to advance themselves in power, most of them drew the line at murder. It would appear that one or two were even prepared to go so far as to murder their King.

Each of these people had their own reasons for deposing Uther, but all seemed to believe that Casimir had a far better reason than most. After all, not one of them had been made to execute their family members, whereas he had. They didn't know what he did, but even then he wasn't willing to put them right. It was only as the plots became more feasible that he realised that in each of the suggested plans it was him who was left with the task of killing the king. This was bothering him, and he was now in trouble, for they had decided on a plan of action and it was to be acted out tonight.

Casimir was stopped from this train of thought as he stood outside his front door, only to realise that his sister was probably working. A quick look around the house told him this, and he sighed as he sat down at the table. He really needed to speak to her, but he knew he could not disturb her at work. Besides, he was sure he had heard one of the servants say that the Lady Lilith had decided to go riding, which meant that Branwen was probably with her and they wouldn't return until late. Until it was too late, Casimir mused darkly.

Resting his head on his hands, he felt his eyes begin to water. Why were they being punished so? The loss of their father had not been unexpected, for they had all known that there was always a risk of death in battle. But the loss of their mother had not been expected. She had recovered, and just as they had all been getting back on track she had been cruelly taken from them... Then there was his younger brother... Casimir sighed heavily. He and Aleyn had not always seen eye to eye, but never had they wished the other dead. To have Aleyn's blood on his hands... Well that was what had sent Casimir into such a downward spiral...

He didn't know what to do. His sense told him not to do it, for it would break his sister's heart, and his family would never have let him do it. Then again he wouldn't have been in this situation if his family was still alive. On the other hand, the group was all relying on him to do the task, and each one of them could destroy him if he failed. One of them had even threatened to do unspeakable things to his sister if he didn't play his part, and Casimir had no doubt that the noble had meant what he said. His sister would suffer whichever choice he made, and he wondered which would be worse. The death of himself or the forced loss of her innocence?

He could only be thankful that Oliver had taken to looking after Branwen. Lord knew that Casimir had not been up to the job. He had no idea how Branwen had been coping, and Casimir cursed himself for having been so selfish. He should have been the one to look after his sister, not his friend. He should have played the big brother role instead of leaving it to someone else. He could only hope that whatever happened tonight that Branwen would forgive him. She would work it out in the end, hopefully. Or maybe Oliver would tell her... Which meant finding the man.

Casimir walked back to the castle, knowing that this was probably where his friend would be. He ignored the stares he was sure he was being given, and tried to shake the feeling that everyone knew what he was going to do. Reaching the gate he found one of the men he had first trained with, and a quick word revealed that Sir Oliver had gone out on patrol and as of yet had not returned. Sighing, Casimir looked at the sky to find the sun was steadily beginning to set. Time was running out, and he had no idea what to do. Whichever way he jumped he and his sister would suffer. It was now just a case of choosing the lesser evil.

He decided on one last drink at the tavern. If these were his last hours of freedom before his imprisonment and then death, he would make the most of them. Besides, the alcohol may clear his head for a bit at least. It would help him make his decision too, or at least he hoped so. If nothing else it would take the edge off his guilt.

Sat down in the Rising Sun, he found himself becoming more and more irritable with the groups of men who had had their fill of drink. How could these people be so cheery when so many were suffering under a tyrant? And how could the men be spending their wages on drink when their families were struggling to feed themselves as it was? His fists clenched and unclenched, and Casimir knew that he should leave before he ended up in a brawl, or let slip the plot. Besides, he had finally made his decision, be it for better or worse.

Downing the rest of his third tankard of ale, Casimir got to his feet and walked out of the door. With his decision being the only thing going through his mind, he walked up the street and felt his hand curl around the hilt of his sword.

For better or for worse, his life and the fate of many would change in the next hour...


	12. Chapter 11

**Hi guys! I know it's been over two years since I last updated this story and for that I am truly sorry! At first it was just writer's block, but then real life then took over! However I'm back and I promise to finish this story by the end of the month! **

**Anyway, I hope you enjoy and as always, reviews are very welcome **

**Hope you enjoy!**

Sir Oliver stood in the forest, unaware of the rest of his surroundings as he stared at the young man sitting by a campfire. Surrounded by sorcerers, the rest of Camelot's patrol were currently being tied up whilst the knight found himself being inspected by the leader of the magicians' camp. He was a bearded man who appeared to be in his mid forties, and had deep green eyes, which took in everything at once. He was dressed in deep blue robes that had seen better days, and wore a Celtic symbol as a pendant on a leather thong around his neck. Though he appeared to be friendly, Sir Oliver had no doubt that this man had powerful magic, and could probably do many cruel things. However, at that point the knight could only stare incredulously at the young man sat by the fire. He looked so much like Aleyn, but he was certain that it could not be him. After all, Aleyn was dead! He had been forced to watch the execution and he had even buried the body! He had comforted Branwen and done his best to steer Casimir away from a destructive path afterwards. He had seen what the death of the youngest of Drystan's sons had caused, and Oliver himself had not yet come to terms with what had happened. He still was unsure what to make of the fact that Aleyn had been releasing sorcerers for money, but at the same time he knew how desperate the family had become since the death of their parents.

"Aleyn?" he repeated, watching as the young man stood up and approached them. It had been a few weeks since the execution and yet the man was dressed exactly the same as he had been at his execution. He did have a bit of a beard and looked a bit ragged, but it was still the same person. The leader turned his head as Casimir's brother approached, and regarded the two men curiously.

"It's alright Aelfric. I know this man."

"He is a knight of Camelot... He is the one responsible for your execution." The leader stated, not turning away from Sir Oliver.

"He did not decide my fate." Aleyn said, looking at the knight with wide eyes. "It was not his decision to kill me."

"Nor did he help you when you needed him." Oliver winced, knowing that though he had tried, it had not been enough.

"He may not have helped me to escape, but he is a good friend, and he has done a lot for my family." Aelfric could say nothing to that. "May I speak to him?"

"You trust him?"

"I do."

"With your life?" Aleyn merely nodded, and so the knight was simply disarmed and led to the fire where he was left alone with the young man.

"Oliver, I can explain..." Aleyn began, knowing that there was a lot that needed to be said.

"It is really you?" The knight muttered, still in shock. He was unsure whether he should be overjoyed to find out that his friend was alive or angry at the fact he had let his family believe he was dead. He thought that this may even be a dream, but the cool breeze and the sparks of the fire reminded him that he was very much awake.

"It is."

"But I saw you die! I watched as the axe fell! I even buried you!" Oliver said, his voice raised. The knight had no idea what to do, but he knew he could not lose his temper. After all, it was Aleyn who had told Aelfric that he could be trusted. If he upset Casimir's brother then he would not only be risking himself but his men too, and Oliver had already witnessed enough death in the last year than he ever wanted to in his whole life.

"I am very much alive." Aleyn smiled slightly.

"But... how?" The knight asked, needing to know.

"It was an illusion. One of the sorcerers I had helped to get out of Camelot rescued me. One minute I was on the block awaiting my fate, the next I was in the woods surrounded by those I had aided." Oliver was silent as he tried to absorb the information. "I had no idea I would be rescued though. I thought I was to die that day..." The young man trailed off, before staring at the flames, obviously thinking of what could have happened.

"So you stayed here with them?" The knight broke the silence, needing to know why the young man had let his family believe he was gone from this world.

"I had nowhere else to go." Aleyn sighed, resting his head in his hands.

"And you let your family believe you were dead?" Oliver's voice rose as he felt his blood boil. He could not forget the haunted look in Casimir's eyes, or the heartbreaking cries of Branwen every time she thought of Aleyn. "Casimir can never forgive himself for what he did! And Branwen..." Oliver's voice dropped to a whisper. "Branwen can scarcely hold herself together..." Aleyn looked guilty and truly repentant, before throwing another twig on the fire.

"I can hardly walk back into Camelot though. Not after what I did..." Aleyn sighed. "I cannot send a message either without putting us all at risk." Both were silent for a moment, and Oliver found himself wondering how he would get his men back to Camelot safely. "How are they?"

"Surviving, just about." Oliver shrugged. "Branwen has had to return to work today, for she can't afford not to. I don't know how she's going to cope, for the servants haven't been too kind to her, but Lady Lilith and a few of the knights are looking out for her." He paused.

"But she does have you." Aleyn said, giving him a knowing look. Oliver could not deny that he cared for the girl, probably more than he should do. "And Cas?"

"Casimir had no choice but to return to work. The King refused to give him a day off after the execution, but Cas has just spent his wages on drink." The knight explained. "Which is why Branwen has had to resume her service as a maid. Otherwise she can't afford the rent, let alone food."

"He's trying to forget what he's done."

"Put yourself in his shoes. Can you even begin to imagine what he's going through?" Aleyn merely shook his head, guilt evident in his eyes.

"And what about you?" He asked, staring at the knight he had once called friend.

"I haven't had much time to myself, between patrols, defending Camelot and looking after your siblings. Branwen..."

"You care for her very much, don't you?"

"I risked my life to get her and your mother out of the city the day Morgana attacked Camelot, but it was not enough..." He sighed. "I cannot deny that I have feelings for your sister, but I can't admit them either. After all, a knight can't marry a serving girl..."

"Stranger things have happened." Aleyn said, patting the knight on the back.

"Besides, I don't know if she feels the same way..."

"You'll soon find out, I'm sure."

"That's if I return to Camelot. I sincerely doubt that these people are about to let us go free."

"What do you mean?" Aleyn's brow furrowed as he asked. After all, these magicians had become friends in the last few weeks, and he had not once seen them around any of Camelot's men.

"Well, surely they believe that I will only return with more men... And how do I explain to my men that we cannot tell anyone of this encounter?" Both were silent, and that was when Aelfric approached them.

"We cannot let you go." The leader stated. "For you will only return to kill us all."

"So what will you do with us? For Camelot does not make deals with sorcerers..." Oliver asked, knowing that the fate of his men rested on this conversation.

"I do not know..." Aelfric admitted. "But your men will not remain quiet about our camp."

"Yet if you keep us here another patrol will be sent out to find us." Sir Oliver stated. "and they will not be so merciful."

"You did not attack us." The magician pointed out. "And let yourselves be captured. What is to say that the next patrol will not do the same?" The knight had no answer to this.

"So what will you do?"

"I have two options." Aelfric paused. "I can either let you go free, or I will have to kill you all."


	13. Chapter 12

The sky was black, with huge angry dark clouds blocking out the moon and stars. It seemed that the heavens themselves were hiding, not wishing to witness the crime which the man was about to commit. To kill a man was a heinous crime but regicide was not only murder, but treachery. Both carried the death penalty, but Casimir knew that whether he succeeded or failed in his task, he was dead anyway. He had been dead inside ever since he had been forced to kill his brother on the executioners block weeks ago. Since that fateful, awful day, he had drunk and gambled away any of the money he made, trying to forget what he had done. He rarely went home for there were remnants of Aleyn everywhere, and this just made him worse. He had changed since that day. No longer gentle and understanding, he was moody and irritable, and very quick to lose his temper. He had tried to forget, and had failed. How could he forget what he had done? He suffered from nightmares, and in his waking hours he was always questioning himself. He could not understand why he had let the axe fall and behead the man he loved the most when he could have stood with him and escaped, or died trying. There was already blood on his hands, and he could never get rid of it.

The events of that day had haunted him and he barely slept without drinking himself into a stupor. Working at the castle had been a nightmare, for everyday he had to walk past the spot where he had taken his brother's life, and each time he did his heart broke into a thousand pieces. Every day was a constant reminder that he was a murderer. No one could ever understand what he was going through. He had not only lost his parents, but he was responsible for the death of his brother. Aleyn had only been seventeen, and barely even a young man. Aleyn had so much left to live for and yet he was dead. He had only been trying to help with finances, but Casimir knew that he should have pressed further about the source of the money. After all, he had been suspicious but they had needed the coins to pay for rent, food and uniform, so there had been no questions. If they had known though then they would have cut costs further. It was too late for ifs and buts now though. Aleyn was dead, and there was nothing that he, or anyone else, could do about it.

Walking through the dark streets of Camelot, Casimir thought over the events of the last few days. He had met with the group who disagreed with Uther's policies, and they had discussed the plot to kill the king. He had been volunteered to be the one who actually did the deed, and he had not been able to object, especially as they threatened to do terrible things to his sister if he did not go through with it. Sighing, Casimir wondered how Branwen would cope when he was gone. The plot had been thorough with how to kill Uther, but nothing had been said about what happened after. Casimir guessed that either way it was death for him, and that was why he had been chosen to do the deed. After all, soldiers were expendable. He would just be replaced by someone else. If it had been one of the nobles on the other hand then the whole family name would be disgraced. Casimir would leave just one person behind, and though Branwen had already suffered more than enough in her life, he knew that she would be looked after. Sir Oliver had already been doing a good job, and Casimir knew that it would continue. So though he felt guilty for leaving Branwen like this, he had no choice. It was either kill Uther or have Branwen suffer in more ways than he could even imagine, and he knew he would never be able to live with himself if he let Branwen get hurt because of him.

Entering Camelot through the main gate, he greeted his colleagues before heading across the courtyard. Though he had recently been working day shifts, one of the nobles had pulled a few strings to make sure that Casimir would be guarding the King's chambers that night, and so the guard strode through the corridors, trying not to think about what he was about to do. He had killed before, but that had been in self defence when protecting Camelot and its people from threats. This time would be different though, for it would be a sleeping man he killed, and it would be in cold blood. It would be murder.

He had to do it though. If he did not go through with it then it would be his sister who would die, and when it came down to it, he would rather make Arthur the King of Camelot than have to bury his sister alongside the rest of his family. He knew that Branwen would disagree, but then she would not have got herself into the same mess that he had. He could only hope that one day his sister would forgive him, and would understand why he had done this. Reaching the corridor with the king's chambers on, he greeted his colleague and fellow conspirator before standing by the King's door. All he could do then was to wait for the King and the rest of the castle to fall asleep and then he would do it.

Three hours dragged past and the Prince had been to visit his father. Casimir had no idea what was said or how long the two relatives had spoken for, but as Arthur had returned to his own chambers, Casimir realised that he was not only going to be murdering the King. He would be killing the only parent that Arthur had, and making him an orphan. The Prince would lose his guardian and advisor, but most importantly, he would lose his father. Casimir knew the pain the death of a parent caused, and he had no wish to inflict that upon anyone, but he knew it was too late for second thoughts. He was in far too deep for him to even consider backing out now. As midnight struck, his colleague gave him the nod, and with a heavy sigh Casimir carefully opened the wooden door and stepped into the chambers that he was supposed to be guarding.

There were no candles lit, but in the dying firelight he found King Uther sleeping soundly and peacefully in bed. Not a sound could be heard apart from his soft snores, and Casimir suddenly realised that he would never be able to live with himself for this. Well, that was if he managed to get away with it. He had no doubt that he would soon be caught and be brought to justice. The same justice that had killed his brother. His eyes narrowed then as he remembered everything he had felt since he had been forced to murder his brother. It had been this man who had ordered Aleyn's execution. It was this man who had forced Casimir to go back to work only two days later. It was Uther who had sent Drystan away on the campaign that had killed him, and it was this King who had let Morgana take over and kill his mother. This man was responsible for the deaths of Casimir's family, and the guard was determined that the King would not be able to kill Branwen as well.

Approaching the bed with his sword drawn, Casimir could think of nothing else apart from the sheer terror and hatred that Uther inspired, and he knew that he would be ridding Camelot of a tyrant. Bringing his sword up, he knew that both man would not see the next sunrise, but that did not matter, for he would be successful, and Camelot would have a new king.

And so he brought his sword down in one quick movement, onto the sleeping man...


End file.
